


Just out of Reach

by MarieBoheme



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of blood and violence, Post-Time Skip, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:00:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23779528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarieBoheme/pseuds/MarieBoheme
Summary: Ever since she had returned from her five-year slumber and met the haunted shell that was Dimitri in the Goddess Tower, she had been convinced that the prince was not beyond saving. That it wasn't too late to bring him back from the brink of this madness that was trying to consume him.But now? She wasn’t quite so sure anymore.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 7
Kudos: 117





	Just out of Reach

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so excited to finally be able to share my piece for the My Beloved Zine Dimileth zine (@mybelovedzine on Twitter)! It was such an honour to be a part of this project with amazing group of writers and artists. Many thanks to the mods for giving me the chance to take part!
> 
> I wrote this back in November when I hadn't been into the ship for very long, and despite how many months have passed since I'm still in love with this pairing. I look forward to publishing more on them soon!

Byleth was no stranger to blood or injury. That of her own, that of her allies, that of her enemies. Most of the time the sight of it did not phase her, but ever since she’d come to Garreg Mach and formed meaningful relationships with her students and colleagues, it pained her more and more each time one of them was wounded. Especially when she couldn’t do anything to prevent it since her power to roll back the clock was limited.

And such a moment had occurred just that afternoon during the ambush at Ailell. While trying to map out their next plan of action, she’d failed to notice an enemy combatant flanking her from behind, his ax raised and leveled at her head. Had Sylvain not been steps away and so irrationally willing to insert himself between her and the enemy, she’d have been a goner.

Instead, she was busy literally washing her former student’s blood off of her hands in the fishing pond. And no matter how hard Sylvain, the selfless idiot, had tried to laugh off his injury after the fact as Mercedes and Annette tended to him in the medic’s tent, she couldn’t help but feel rattled that she’d almost allowed herself to fall like that. She needed to always be on guard, for her former students and all the soldiers whose lives had been entrusted to her command. There was only so much Divine Pulse could accomplish - she’d learned that the hard way with her father.

“What are you doing?” A gruff voice came from behind her.

Somehow, she’d been taken off guard for a second time that day. Her hands instinctively made their way to her sword at her hip before she spun around to meet the intruder face to face. Byleth let out a sigh of relief as she realized who it was.

Dimitri’s expression was unreadable as his gaze bore into her. His good eye drifted down to her arms which were still speckled with Sylvain’s blood. “Are you injured?”

She sheathed her weapon. “No, I was helping Mercedes tend to Sylvain’s wound.”

He scoffed. “A waste of valuable fighting power when you could have continued to aid the offense.”

Byleth tensed as she took in his words. “He took a hit for me. It was only proper to make sure he was alright.”

Dimitri was unimpressed. “Just make sure you keep your soldiers in line at the next battle. We’ll never defeat _that woman_ if you get yourselves killed.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I can’t believe you would speak so callously about one of your oldest friends.”’

He laughed at her - one of those heartless, venomous laughs she had grown to despise since their reunion months ago. When once his laugh was something joyful and heartwarming, it now sent chills down her spine. “Sentimentality and camaraderie are for fools. If you can’t protect yourselves on the battlefield and die before we reach Enbarr, then you’re useless to me. You’re _all_ expendable.”

Without so much as another breath, he turned from her before stalking off, to where she didn’t quite know. Leaving her somehow more rattled from when she had nearly watched Sylvain give up his own life for her.

Byleth took a deep breath and lowered herself to her knees, in an effort to maintain her composure. Ever since she had returned from her five-year slumber and met the haunted shell that was Dimitri in the Goddess Tower, she had been convinced, despite the grumblings of some of her more pessimistic former students, that the prince was not beyond saving. That his former nature, his true self, was buried somewhere deep, somewhere that she could reach if she waited long enough. That it wasn't too late to bring him back from the brink of this madness that was trying to consume him.

But now? She wasn’t quite so sure anymore.

* * *

Byleth couldn’t help but imagine how she must look to an outsider in her current state. Hobbling around the monastery before the crack of dawn on a twisted ankle, one hand taut against her shoulder to stem the flow of blood that was protruding from her right shoulder where she’d been hit with an arrow. At least the blinding pain in her shoulder and leg were masking the dull ache of the bruising and scrapes that she had surely acquired.

In her other hand, she was carefully balancing an assortment of medical supplies that Annette had thrust into her arms under Mercedes’ judgmental gaze. Her former student was not pleased that Byleth would not allow herself to be healed, but the latter preferred that their limited healers focus their efforts on the other soldiers, including the members of the Blue Lions. She could take care of herself. Although she had vowed to track down her former professor once she was done tending to the rest of the wounded.

In a way, Byleth saw the pain as a sort of punishment for not having foreseen the attack on the monastery and allowing herself to be ambushed. While there had thankfully been no casualties, she had exhausted her use of her Divine Pulse and she’d had to allow graver injuries than she would usually allow to slip through in order to avoid a death count. Despite the number of guards stationed around the monastery, they’d unfortunately not foreseen the oncoming onslaught of imperial soldiers until it was nearly too late, with barely any time to warn their best fighters, who were fast asleep in their quarters, of the attack before their foes reached the perimeter.

Eventually, she reached her destination - the cathedral. Far enough from the post-battle activity that she could work in peace and quiet. She took a seat on one of the front pews and deposited her supplies next to her, wincing as her bad leg reacted quite painfully to the change in position. At least the chill in the air, which had been growing progressively since she left the infirmary, was helping with the pain somewhat.

Now seated, she finally took the opportunity to take a closer look at the injury on her shoulder since leaving the battle. Ingrid, under Manuela’s watchful gaze, had helped her remove the arrow cleanly once the imminent danger had passed during the fight, and since then the opening had quickly filled and overflowed with blood which had stained her skin and armor. Using a rag, she did her best to clean the area to get a better look and then frowned. The wound was a lot deeper than she had anticipated - she would surely need stitching, something that she could do on her own in theory but which would be pretty much impossible at this angle.

The sound of footsteps in her periphery suddenly drew her attention, but she didn’t look away from her shoulder. The patterns of those heavy footfalls were ones with which she had grown deeply familiar over the last few months.

She hadn’t seen much of Dimitri during the attack. He’d been one of the first to charge in, slicing through herds of imperial soldiers with his lance in a highly calculated fashion, walking off the battlefield without a word when it was clear they’d defeated every last enemy. Unlike most of their fighters, he didn’t appear to have been asleep at the time of the attack despite it being the dead of the night. For once, she was grateful for his unrelenting insomnia, which was most likely the reason they had escaped the ambush relatively unscathed.

Byleth could barely make out his figure on her periphery as he approached in what she assumed was his usual night-time trajectory to the cathedral. She expected that he would walk straight past her, acting like she didn’t exist, as he usually did on the many occasions that she tried to reach out to him during his vigils.

But instead of continuing past, the footsteps came to a halt a few feet from her. Byleth looked up, taking in Dimitri’s disheveled appearance, looking as if he had come straight here from the battle just like she had. He was even still clutching his lance at his side, speckled with blood and gore. She doubted that she looked much better, especially with her bleeding shoulder which had spilled onto her armor and into her hair. She must be a sorry sight.

“What are you doing _here_?” He asked, most likely annoyed with her taking up his space. He pointedly avoided meeting her eyes. Instead, his gaze was lingering over her bad shoulder and the cluster of bloody bandages. An internal struggle seemed to be playing out across his features. Byleth held her breath as she waited to see what he would do next. “And not the infirmary?”

“My injuries are minimal,” she said, looking away from him and returning her focus to her wounds. “I’d rather our healers save their energy for the others.”

Dimitri grunted indifferently, and she figured that was the end of it. Until she heard the sound of footfalls making their way behind her as a presence approached and the clanging of his lance being placed on the floor nearby. Followed by bandages being aggressively yanked out of her hands.

“What are you-” She went silent as she felt him take a seat on the pew beside her, followed by the touch of his gloved hands on her shoulder.

“You’ll need stitches. You’re absolutely ridiculous to think you can take care of this yourself. Why must you always be so stubborn?” Despite the rough edge to his voice, his touch was gentle and careful. He removed his gauntlets before foraging in her pile of supplies, leaning over her as he did so.

Byleth sat still as a statue, her eyes focused straight ahead of her, not quite sure how to process what was happening as she saw him pick up a needle. “I didn’t know you knew how to suture.”

Dimitri remained silent, but she noticed a slight pause in his movements. She nearly jumped when she felt his bare hands make contact with her shoulder. His touch was warmer than she expected as he began to clean her wound.

She winced at the first sensation of the needle hitting her skin, digging her nails into her tights to stifle her reaction to the sharp pain. Dimitri tutted from behind her. “Hold still.”

Byleth did her best to do so, although the absolute silence was doing little to help her distract herself from the unpleasant sensation. She wasn’t sure how much time passed as he worked and she sat, with nothing but the rubble and charred remains in front of her to keep her mind occupied in the absence of any conversation. But the ruins only served as a painful reminder of the time she had missed. Asleep and useless. The time during which Dimitri had undergone the torment of which she was sure she only knew a fraction.

Eventually, a large gust of wind flew in from behind them and she shivered reflexively, significantly enough that the point of the needle dug into a part of her skin that it was not intended for. Despite herself, she let out a small whimper at the pain. Dimitri sighed loudly from behind her and leaned away, shifting in his seat. Assuming that he would get up and leave, fed up with her restlessness, Byleth frowned.

Instead, she felt the heavy weight of something being placed around her shoulders, and she felt her cheeks flush at the realization that it was Dimitri’s cloak. He said nothing as he rearranged it so that he could continue to access the wound on her injured side. A small smile teased her lips as she used her other arm to move the cloak further around herself.

“Mercedes taught me,” he whispered against her ear as he leaned in to resume his previous position. “Back at the academy.”

He continued to work in silence, and Byleth found it much easier this time to distract herself from the pain of the needle, and even the ache that was still radiating from her injured shoulder and leg. Her attention was easily consumed by the warmth of the heavy material wrapped around her, complemented by that of Dimitri's figure once against pressed against her side, his face hovering close to hers. She couldn’t remember ever having been so close to him. At times, she could feel the tickle of his breath against the back of her ear and the side of her neck, somehow more intimate than the feel of his calloused yet gentle fingers on her sensitive and bruised skin.

“This is a deep cut,” he spoke suddenly, snapping her out of her reverie. “A little to the side and you could have been killed. You shouldn’t charge in so recklessly.”

Byleth bit down on her lip as she repressed the urge to point out the irony behind his statement. She needed to take advantage of this rare moment of conversation from him that did not revolve around charging into Enbarr and slicing off Edelgard’s head. There would be no advantage gained from alienating him.

“I thought we were all expendable,” she said quietly. He stilled, and Byleth risked a look over her shoulder to try and catch a glimpse of his face, hoping to finally make eye contact for the first time that night.

He was still pointedly avoiding her gaze, but Byleth could finally see an emotion besides that of anger on his features. A rare sight since their reunion in the Goddess Tower. He seemed conflicted, regretful.

“Your death would be devastating for our former classmates,” he answered, still pointedly looking downwards. “Grief makes soldiers reckless and emotional. Useless. I can’t afford such shortcomings in battle.”

Byleth purposely kept her expression reactionless as she continued to study his face. When it was obvious that he was not going to say any more on the subject, she turned back around to stare ahead at the cathedral rubble once more. No longer in his field of vision, she allowed herself to smile.

They further sat in silence as Dimitri finished stitching her shoulder and cleaned the wound. As he worked the bandage around her shoulder, his fingers brushed against her torso and her cheek, and she shivered once again. Although not from the cold this time.

Once he was done, Dimitri stood up without a word, reaching for his lance and donning his gauntlets before he began to walk away.

_No,_ she thought. _We’re not leaving it like this._

Byleth winced as she stood up quickly on her bad leg, gripping Dimitri’s right arm and holding on as tightly as she could muster in her fatigued and injured state. He attempted to shake himself from her grasp but she refused to let go.

“Dimitri, _look_ at me.”

Finally, her eyes met his.

Byleth almost felt herself tear up at the raw emotion behind his gaze, its intensity further emphasized by the beginnings of daylight which had begun to stream into the cathedral. The pink and orange hues of the sunrise illuminated the gold of his hair and the paleness of his face, ragged from years of sleepless nights and an unrelenting thirst for revenge.

But for the first time in months, technically years, she saw snippets of the kindhearted, empathetic boy she once knew staring back at her. Not that of the monster he so adamantly claimed to be.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice wavering slightly. She hoped that with those two words, she was accurately conveying everything she wanted to say but knew he wasn’t quite ready to hear.

_Thank you for helping me._

_Thank you for continuing to fight by my side._

_Thank you for still being in there, somewhere._

A mixture of emotions passed over his face. But just as quickly as they appeared, he removed his arm from her grasp and looked away once more. The moment was over. “You can return my cloak tomorrow.”

With that, he walked away from her, to where she wasn’t sure. Byleth sighed, wrapping the cloak further around herself, relishing both its warmth and the lingering scent of its owner.

_We still have a lot of work to do,_ she thought to herself with a smile, _But all is not lost._

**Thank you,[meli_sketch](https://twitter.com/meli_sketch/) for this amazing companion art!**


End file.
